Quest into the Forbidden
by Vanessa N. Gilfoy
(Book 3 of the New Pangaea Series)
He would never forget the first time he saw her.
Illuminated by flashes of light within the foggy waters, she seemed a goddess of night. Her thick mane of liquid mahogany poured down her breasts and shoulders too beautiful to be real. He imagined it felt even smoother than his cloak. The tips of her pointed ears poked out, which made this all the more taboo.
He shouldn’t look. If someone caught him, he’d lose all possibility of a treaty with the Western River Elves. He couldn’t prove that lousy fortune reading true.
But her fair skin glistened brighter than the Old Moon above, drawing his gaze. Droplets dripped down the dramatic angles of her face, where he’d touch her, given the chance. His fingers would slip all over. Oh, she’d slide so perfectly against him while the warm water lapped and swirled.
Holt grinned and leaned against a mossy tree, arms across his chest as he inhaled the earthy scent. Surprisingly comfortable. Lush elven moss cushioned just about everything in this moist land. A perfect bed. He could sleep right here on the mossy bank of rocks but he’d rather do something else.
Only twenty feet away, she stroked the nearly hidden surface of the lake. Mist rolled away, giving him a clearer view of her body. Slender yet firm. The way she held herself exuded strength. Jaw parallel to the water, sloped shoulders back, long neck taut.
He loved that. Strong women always offered a greater challenge. A thrill that not even battle could match.
Holt unclasped the elven-silk cloak at his throat. The protective garment would have made a whispering sound, if not for the thunder of a rocky waterfall behind his nymph blocking it out. Foamy white curled and swelled down the rough cliff and crashed into the lake. It looked more like cloud than water.
What better medium? Magic sparked throughout. Like the magic he’d feel in her. His heart quickened at the thought. He’d never been with an elf before.
He couldn’t unbutton his shirt fast enough. One of the tricky little bits of plastic popped off and disappeared into the mist that buried his shins and feet.
“What are you doing? She’ll kill you,”
warned, head tipped down to Holt’s ear. lace w:st="on">Warrenlace>
The old man appeared beside Holt as he always did, like a conscience.
“Not if I phrase it right.” Anyone could be convinced of anything. This just might take several tries, considering the stigma against interracial relations.
“Elves aren’t like dwarves and wizards. She won’t just slap you.”
Holt laughed, head cocked. He’d been slapped quite a few times, especially by dwarven women, but that had never dissuaded his pursuit before. Lost battles in victorious wars. Eventually they softened, given enough compliments and persistence. He always won in the end.
Besides, how could he pass up this opportunity? How many human men ever ventured this deep into elven land without elven ash arrows flying at them? Add to that being accompanied by a beautiful, nude elven woman and the odds were staggering.
“Go on ahead and I’ll catch up,” Holt said despite
’s tightening grip on his shoulder. He shrugged off the old man’s hold along with his shirt. Warm mists crept up Holt’s bare skin like seductive fingers. Strange. It tingled his skin and left behind an ache. lace w:st="on">Warrenlace>
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